


Because you're mine

by CrazyChicken



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyChicken/pseuds/CrazyChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Okay, how about this,” the blonde started. “If you play well tomorrow, you can do anything to me you want afterwards, I promise you.”</i>
</p>
<p>In which Mario is rewarded for his awesomeness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because you're mine

**Author's Note:**

> I now pronounce you Götzeus smut. Officially. I’m sorry if it sucks, but I’m not sorry.  
> This is that one big shoutout to everyone on Tumblr.
> 
> Based on [this](http://oi50.tinypic.com/wi9amh.jpg) [gifset](http://oi49.tinypic.com/2cfysz5.jpg) by ceciliasome (I couldn’t find the original post).

Lazy kisses marked the evening. Mario had tricked Marco into going to bed early, but at some point they had stopped undressing. Their quick, passionate kisses had been replaced by slow, yet intense ones. Their legs were entangled, their hair messed up. The warm, white blanket covered their half-naked bodies, keeping them warm on the cold autumn night. Yet Mario hadn’t intent on being warmed by the sheets, and he was rather straight-forward about it.

“Let’s have sex,” he said breathily between their wet, sloppy kisses.

Marco knew his friend too well to be taken aback by that comment. “That’s not a good idea,” he replied involuntarily, as he wrapped his arm around the younger guy’s shoulder all the same. “Big game tomorrow.”

Mario sighed, eyes closed. “Ajax, really?”

“Don’t you remember Monday?” He laid a series of kisses on Mario’s face as the memories came back to the latter. A soft one on the nose – after a great game day they had shared the hotel bed. One to the side of his head – they had stayed up until three o’clock and honestly, it had been some amazing hours well spent. A wet one on the spot between ear and jaw – Monday at the training they had gone through some hard times when their knees ached and they both couldn’t sit on their butt. Worse than the pain, which only reminded them of the pleasure, were the remarks by teammates, especially Kevin’s.

Mario groaned when he realised it was probably for the best. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But don’t you for a second think we won’t have that kind of nights again, because I’m not done with this.”

He watched closely as Marco’s entire face broke into a smile; he knew he liked the idea of it all just as much as he did.

“Okay, how about this,” the blonde started. “If you play well tomorrow, you can do anything to me you want afterwards, I promise you.”

His imagination immediately created a few plans, but he tried to not to picture them in detail, because at this point he was sure he wasn’t getting laid tonight.

“Okay,” he simply said, turning his back to Marco as if to show how strong and independent he was – which he wasn’t – but instead of letting go, Marco put his arm over Mario’s side, tightly holding him, spooning him and nuzzling his neck.

“You smell nice,” Marco said.

“It’s your aftershave.”

“I know. I like my smell on you. It reminds me of the fact you’re mine.”

His words were so adorable, so honest that it startled Mario. He knew nothing to say in response, so instead he thought about it for a long time, until Marco broke the silence one again.

“Do you think we have a socially unacceptable amount of sex?”

Mario turned his head, just to see the fire in his boyfriend’s eyes. “No, it’s just right.”

“I thought you’d say it’s not enough.” Marco pinched his hand teasingly.

Mario considered it a few seconds, before he answered: “Never, but it’s still just right.”

 

The pressure was high, not because of something Jürgen had said or something the media claimed; he knew there was a lot more at stake tonight than winning or losing.

He hadn’t always been like this, thinking with his penis. Even at sixteen, when most boys of his age had had too much hormones raging through their bodies to think straight, he had always been able to keep his sex drive under control and focus on football instead. Lately, however, he had lost all ability to do so. Only a month ago he and Marco had first shared the bed and since that day, Mario was finally convinced that he was Marco’s and Marco was his; he liked the constant reminders when he could take off Marco’s clothes without being judged. Even the simple touches sent tingling feelings through his body. During practice or games or at home when they were having lunch with Mario’s parents. Entangling legs under the table, quickies in the shower, short but passionate make out sessions in closets, silent handjobs when Mario’s parents were in the room next to them, quick kisses during private elevator rides. Whenever Marco was around, Mario couldn’t keep his hands off of him; and Marco seemed to feel the same way.

Although he knew he had played well, he didn’t know if it was well _enough_. Marco hadn’t been unambiguous about what ‘good’ meant. Score a goal? Score five goals? Or maybe give him assists? He had no idea. All he could do was wait and hope.

Some interviewer was asking him some questions and he gave some answers, when he felt someone push against his shoulder. _Who dares disturb me?_ was his first thought, but then he turned around and saw Marco, who said nothing, did nothing, yet Mario started smiling like a crazy, because he knew exactly what the look meant. _You’re getting laid tonight._

 

The ‘you can do anything to me you want’ turned out to be more of a ‘I will do everything to you I know you want me to do but you’re too shy to ask of me’.

Marco rained quick kisses on Mario’s body, mussed up his still damp hair. “You were good,” Marco mumbled against hot hips, marking skin on his hip bone.

Mario wanted to say something smart in response but his thoughts went out the window when Marco pulled of the pants in a rush. All he could do was moan softly.

“You were fucking amazing,” Marco continued as he pushed himself back up and nibbled on Mario’s earlobe.

“ _We_ were fucking amazing,” Mario whispered as he let his hands wander along Marco’s back, tracing patterns of goose bumps along his spine.

Neither of them truly thought about the words that escaped their mouths, but the compliments felt comfortable on their lips. Marco’s kisses were driving Mario mad, but when he slid his hands down, they were quickly slapped away by the other.

“It’s still your award,” Marco breathed against his cheeks, before kissing his way down Mario’s neck.

“What? Sex?” Mario asked as his eyes followed Marco’s movements.

“Yes. As I promised, as your reward for playing well tonight.”

Mario felt the need to say something about how much he knew Marco wanted this too, but he lost it when Marco’s hand slid along his shaft, drawing moans from Mario’s mouth with every move.

The pace was slow and it was killing Mario, who tilted his head back into the pillow. Somehow he found the strength to open his mouth. “Just to be clear,” he started, opening his eyes into Marco’s. “When you say ‘reward’, you don’t mean that I’m getting fucked again, right?” He raised an eyebrow and Marco blushed. “Of course not,” he whispered, looking at the sheets. Then he turned up his eyes and smiled. “My ass is all yours tonight, baby.”

Mario couldn’t get the stupid grin of his face as the pleasant thoughts washed over him. He wanted to roll over onto Marco, but the hotel bed was too small – they had gotten separate beds, after all – so it ended up a struggle, and when he finally was on top, he saw Marco laughing silently.

“Are you laughing at me?” Mario asked indignant as he straddled Marco’s hips.

“No, I’m laughing _with_ you.” He dug the nails of his left hand into Mario’s thigh while using his other hand to pull him down for a kiss.

He knew how much Marco hated to bottom – both preferred to top, but he knew that Marco went through extremely hard and painful times when stretching – and from the way his body tensed up under his gentle touch, he knew he was anxious, which made Mario nervous as well. He mumbled soothing words, as he tried to distract his lover by slowly running his fingers along Marco’s length inside his boxers.

The latter was still trembling when he said: “I’m okay.”

Mario looked up in surprise, hesitating. “Are you sure? You don’t have to...”

“I said I’m okay, Mario. Just get the lube please. It’s in my bag, fold inside my black sweater.”

Mario realised they should have thought about lube before they started tugging at each other’s clothes, since it was a bit of a mood-breaker to stand up and walk off now. He hated to leave Marco’s warm body for even once second, but he knew it would be worth it. With one last kiss he stood up from the bed and walked over to the other one, where Marco’s bag lay open and disposed. As he went through his friend’s stuff he kept stealing glances at Marco as he undid himself of his boxers. The five seconds had felt like hours when Mario finally found the bottle and rushed back to Marco, who was slowly touching himself now. Their lips collided harder than Mario intended and he could taste a bit of blood on his lip, but he wasn’t sure whose it was.

His hands wandered down on Marco’s body again, which started shaking heavier in response. Instead of doing what Marco expected him to do, Mario lowered his head to his cock and slid his tongue out over the tip, licking its way across the length.

“Mario, what are you...” Marco started but then Mario’s mouth enveloped him and he couldn’t finish his sentence. He knew how amazing Mario’s blowjobs were, but he must have partly forgotten, because everytime again the great feeling took him by surprise.

Too soon Mario let his cock slip out again and let his lips go lower, down the shaft and to his butthole, and Marco knew he had never done this before, and then he started _licking_ and Marco panicked and when it felt too much like a porn, he cried out: “Stop!”

“Did I do something wrong?” Mario asked, kissing the insides of his thighs. When he looked up he saw Marco’s face had turned the colour of Bayern Munich.

“No!” he quickly exclaimed. “It’s just... I don’t know. I’m sorry. It... It felt so intense. So weird in a good way. So good in a weird way. Unreal. I don’t know.” He hid his face under his hands. “I don’t understand why you’d do this to me.”

_So that’s the truth._ Mario moved up and pulled Marco’s hands away from his face. “Because when I say I love everything about you, I mean it. And when I say I want to lick and rub and kiss every inch of you, I mean it. Not just your mouth, although it’s a really tempting one.” He wiggled his eyebrows before leaning in.

Mario’s lips tasted strange, but Marco tried not to think about it. He was soon distracted when Mario’s finger poked at his entrance. He used loads of lube, even just for the preparation and Marco couldn’t complain. He knew why Mario did this and he was quite pleased with it. His first finger slid in easier than he had imagined and the second and third came quicker than he remembered. The moving wasn’t too uncomfortable, and when Mario curled his fingers inside of him, he actually liked the feeling and he bucked up his hips in appreciation of the feeling. “Where did you learn all this?” he asked breathily.

Mario’s cheeks turned red. “Eh, literature.”

Marco was honestly too aroused to ask about it, so instead he politely asked: “Can you just please fuck me now?”

Mario pulled back his hand and covered himself and Marco with lube – nearly emptying the bottle – before steadying himself before Marco. He used his slick hands to lift Marco’s legs over his shoulder and inch by inch he watched himself disappear into that hot body. The sight of it alone made a low grumble escape from his mouth.

Marco repeated the word ‘fuck’ several times. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was open a bit, the point of his tooth – that really sexy one that show when he smiles his special Mario-smile – visible under his dark, wet lips. He was so beautiful, so deeply beautiful in Mario’s eyes, inside and out. And yes, he _did_ want to cover every inch of his body with sweet little kisses, but now was not the time, he realised.

When he started moving he could see Marco’s fists clenching the sheets. He knew the strange combination of pain and lust that must have filled him and he could see the expression clear on Marco’s face.

“You’re so pretty,” Mario mumbled softly. He was in no hurry and kept the tempo slow and undeep. “You really are.” He could see Marco was too far to respond; he let go of Marco’s hips and found his hands instead, entangled their fingers as Marco’s eyes flew open.

“I’m not, you are,” he gasped and Mario knew it wasn’t just modesty; Marco really thought that way and it killed Mario to know that despite all his efforts, his boyfriend still thought of himself as the lesser of the two of them.

Instead of ruining the moment with more words, Mario caressed Marco’s hand with his thumb, as he picked up the pace. He could see Marco withholding moans, but then he thrust harder and angled Marco’s hips slightly and when he hit a sensitive spot inside of him, the beautiful sounds finally escaped.

Marco guided Mario’s hand to his own already leaking cock and his strokes evoked even more noise. Mario loved the sounds he could draw from his lover’s mouth more than any song he had ever heard.

_You sexy beast_ , Mario thought. _You amazing creature. You fucking perfect being._ But he had learned that the words would only made Marco feel self-aware and the evening was too good to be spoiled.

“Mario,” Marco whispered inaudibly in between moans. “Mario, I – don’t... wait, stop, I, oh god.” With one last sigh that sounded a lot like Mario’s name he spilled over his own and Mario’s belly.

Mario pulled out and crawled next to his boyfriend, just looking at the precious little thing beside him, as it was catching his breath.

“Fuck – you... you didn’t even come,” Marco said when he had gained his sense again. His sweaty blonde hair stuck to his forehead and his lips were broken; from biting, Mario knew.

“It’s okay,” he assured him.

“No, it was your reward,” Marco complained. The angry frown wasn’t a joke.

“Watching you come is enough of a reward for me.”

He ran his fingers along Marco’s chest, up his jawline, and he kissed the little drops of sweat from his eyebrow.

Marco’s cheeks turned red at the somewhat-compliment. “Really?” he asked as Mario guided both of them under the blanket.

“I swear,” he promised as he looked Marco straight in the eye, yet he didn’t complain when Marco’s hand went down between their bodies.

 

“Thank you,” Mario whispered, hot and shaky. The bed was messed up and no one had enough energy left to clean it.

“My pleasure,” Marco grinned in the dark, embracing his lover.

“One question,” Mario started, half-asleep. “Would you have done this if I didn’t score, too?”

His eyes were closed, but Mario could feel him smiling. “I would have done this if we lost ten to fucking zero.”

Mario smiled satisfiedly, just before dozing off. “That was all I needed to know.”

**Author's Note:**

> When Mario says “literature” he means our fanfics of course. I think he ships Gerlonso. I mean, who doesn’t?


End file.
